Paradise Isle, Slave Trade Pt. 02

As the two of them were sitting next to each other on adjacent sides of the square table, Michell simply angled her chair a bit so she was partially facing the woman who she was now starting to despise. And when the woman frowned, she separated her legs so her crotch was on full display.

She looked over again at Kevin, and he just nodded her way.

Michelle kept telling herself that she needed to get used to these kinds of demands. She'd probably be dealing with them for the next three years. But she didn't have to like it.

They sat for a while like that, while they waited for their food. Melanie engaged Kevin, questioning him on the slave trade, and how he enjoyed his role as a trader.

When their meals were finally delivered, the server paid no attention to the way Michell was displaying her raunchy sex. But Michelle blushed anyway. She had just taken her first bite of salad when the woman again made things worse, much worse.

"Kevin, do you mind?"

Before he could swallow his mouthful of food. She continued.

"Wyatt, before you touch your plate, come over here, kneel and eat sweet Michelle. I want to see what you learned." And to get him moving she gave a tug on her slave's leash.

Wyatt muttered, "yes, Mistress," as he got up, stepped around and then kneeled obediently in between Michelle's legs. He had to push them farther apart to get into position.

She was stunned, and didn't know how to react. She didn't want to make it worse by making a scene and drawing the entire restaurant's attention to their table. And she didn't want to get Wyatt in trouble with his domineering mistress, either. For a moment she hoped that Kevin would, at last, intervein. But when she looked over, she saw that Melanie had held up her free hand in front of his face, like a traffic cop stopping traffic.

And it was working to stop him from protesting.

Just then she felt Wyatt's hands bury themselves in her crotch to separate her chains, and open the way to her pussy. It was one of the things he'd learned in class.

Resigned, she settled back and looked down at the top of the guy's head as he buried it in her crotch and began licking on her clit and pussy.

It was all so bizarre. Sitting in the middle of a restaurant, with this guy on a leash eating her pussy, while the woman watched the show. Michelle didn't even want to look up, or around to see who else might be watching. Probably the whole restaurant.

It was all so humiliating.

But, damn it all, it was also starting to feel mighty good. Wyatt had learned his lessons well. And the situation, while embarrassing, was also kind of stimulating.

Slowly, Michelle stopped worrying about the surroundings and the audience, and began relaxing and enjoying the feelings.

In fact, she began realizing that the situation was inexplicably contributing to her rapidly growing arousal. Wyatt was succeeding in pushing her toward an unwanted climax.

When she started panting and squirming on the edge of her chair. Melanie made it worse, by coaching her slave. "That's it, Wyatt. You take her over the edge. That's a good boy."

Damn that woman! Michelle thought angrily, and it interrupted her ecstasy, for a moment. But Wyatt increased his pace and poked his tongue inside her, and only moments later she had to let herself go.

Her moan wasn't all that loud, but it was clear that she was cumming. Right there in the middle of the restaurant.

Wyatt, himself moaned as she involuntarily closed her thighs against the sides of his face, and rested her hands on his head.

She held him for several more minutes as her orgasm faded away, and her wits returned to remind her where she was.

As she relaxed and steadied her breathing, she refused to look up to meet anyone's gaze.

She did open her thighs and gently push the slave's head out of her crotch.

Wyatt took a deep breath and then looked up and caught her eye. He smiled and winked, happily.

Michelle could tell that he had enjoyed himself. The guy was something else. Truly a woman's slave.

Melanie chuckled. "Nicely done Wyatt. That was a very good demonstration. I'm proud of you. Now come on back, wipe your mouth and eat your lunch." And again, she tugged on his leash to get him moving.

Once he was out of the way, Michell closed her legs and shifted her chair to be properly aligned with the table. All the while she refused to look up an anyone.

She carefully took a swallow of wine. And then a second, longer drink.

Only then did she look up at Kevin, who was smiling gently and approvingly at her. Or was he just getting off at the performance she and Wyatt had just given. She wasn't sure.

The rest of their meal moved along without further incident. Only Melanie and Kevin spoke, but only about inconsequential topics like the weather and the resorts. Michelle and Wyatt remained quiet and focused on their food.

Eventually they casually said their goodbyes and headed off to finish their day with their respective partners.

Rather than go straight back to her suite, Kevin led Michelle for a long walk around the grounds. It was another nice afternoon, with a sprinkling of fluffy clouds to occasionally block the sun, and the sounds of the ocean were peaceful.

"Well, she was a dubious adventure." Kevin said, not long after they'd started.

"What a bitch." Michell replied.

"Oh, now. She's a slave owner with her boy. And she treated you like the slave you're supposed to be." He said, trying to sound reasonable and soothing.

"She's a bitch. I don't understand what Wyatt sees in her." she replied, clearly not soothed.

He just shook his head. Michelle, they obviously have their own version of a dominant-submissive relationship going. If he didn't enjoy it, in some fashion, he wouldn't be with her, would he? If you had a more submissive outlook on life, you'd make a much better slave."

She stopped and her leash forced him to stop, rather than yank her over.

Angrily she asked, "what do you mean by that? I'm doing my damndest to be a good slave."

He held up his hands in surrender. "Michelle, you are a lovely slave, but since you're not a submissive by nature, you will never enjoy your role. Oh, you'll put up with it, and play your part. But unlike Wyatt you'll never be a happy slave girl."

"Of course not!" she said, vehemently. But then her mind caught up with what he'd just said. And she started getting the message. That was the difference between her and the other slaves. The ones in her class. Although she had volunteered to be a slave, she hadn't done so because the lifestyle turned her on. She didn't get aroused by performing sexual services for a masterful partner.

She had a totally different motivation.

That realization calmed her, and she relaxed, and resumed walking, almost leading him for a change.

She sighed, "I understand."

"Good."

"Let's go back to the room. It's my last night to make love on my own terms. And I want it to be with you."

"Oh, goodie," he said, chuckling.

She laughed. "Be prepared."

"I am. I am."

Their sex that evening was more energetic, more frenzied. Michelle took control and did her best to satisfy her lover, and herself to the best of her abilities. And after her week in school her kills were much better than they had ever been.

Her multiple orgasms left her exhausted, and him empty and his body sore from the workout.

And both of them were happy.

They ordered a room service meal for dinner, and relaxed again while they ate and shared a bottle of wine.

Later, while they were lying comfortably in each other's arms. She suddenly exhaled, and then pushed herself up on an elbow.

"Thank you, it's been a lovely couple of days. I really enjoyed it."

"My pleasure."

"But, you know, it's kind of scarry; I'm really starting to think like a sex slave. Several times this weekend, while we were making love, I found myself thinking about how I could give you more pleasure."

"Hmm, is that so? You did give me plenty of pleasure."

She giggled. "That's good. Like a slave girl should."

He laughed. "Well, my dear, you certainly look the part; both beautiful and decorated. And I guess the school has been good for you in the skills department. I think the next week of classes will really prepare you for what's to come."

She sighed, a little worried. "I suppose. I just hope I can survive the next three years, and then get back to a normal life."

"Normal for a beautiful woman? A woman who can have anything she wants from admiring men?"

"Yes. That's the plan."

"Don't worry. It's a good plan. And remember, you'll have plenty of money too. You won't even need a man."

She smiled. "Yes, that too."

But she had always dreamed of having a man. One who would love and cherish and take care of her. That was what she was really after.

+++++++++++++

Kevin delivered Michell back to the Sex School bright and early the next morning.

As soon as she saw Wyatt, she stepped over to him, and whispered into his ear, "yesterday didn't happen. Understand?"

He stuttered, "but..."

She poked him in the ribs with a finger. "Never happened!"

"Alright," he sighed, rubbing at the sore spot.

None of the slaves were pleased, when at the start of the day the chief instructor gathered them in a corner and warned them of a new and frightening aspect of their training.

"This week will not really be more of the same. You are all slaves, and although you're now fairly competent at providing your masters or mistresses pleasure, we include in this week the aspects that are important to that level of relationship. You will now be taught about pleasure paired with pain, and with submission, bondage and discipline.

She paused to let that sink in, before continuing.

"You may or may not be familiar with those practices, but you will be by the end of the week. And be advised, although you may not enjoy the things you will learn, protesting, crying, or resisting will not be tolerated.

"Understood?"

"Yes Mistress," they all replied, unenthusiastically.

Then they began their sex slave lessons.

The sequence of topics was actually much like the first week's, but now they were practiced with higher expectations and with the addition of pain, bondage and kinkier wrinkles rolled in.

The staff required the slaves to reach higher levels of standards in each area of expertise. And failure was addressed using energetic corporal punishment. The instructors carried around crops or paddles, and used them liberally on those students who didn't satisfy their demands. And on occasion even on those who did.

At first, all of them, except perhaps Sutton, reacted sullenly and resentfully to the painful punishments. Even Wyatt wasn't used to being spanked by his mistress. She apparently used other methods to control him.

But, over time they all learned to accept the negative reinforcement when they screwed up. And they did come to realize that by performing, they could avoid most of the pain.

While they kissed, licked, sucked, fucked or where fucked, they were subject to discomfort, pain and bondage in many forms. All treated as aspects of sexual pleasure, primarily for their partner's enjoyment, of course. But also, for their own dubious enjoyment.

There were cuffs, straps, ropes, metal and wooden frames involved, throughout. And despite their suffering they were required to perform to the same levels they had the previous week, or better.

Michelle suffered through half a day in an arm binder, and came away with her shoulders numb and stiff for hours afterwards. But she had sucked on pricks and pussies, real and artificial, and provided the expected levels of pleasure to her subjects, throughout.

She spent a similar session with a ring-gag locking her mouth open. She was either drooling and unable to talk, or filled with a cock or dildo. And again, when the thing was finally removed, she suffered in trying to work out the stiffness and muscle aches. She hated it, but she accepted it, too.

Sutton, Gracie, and even Wyatt spent many hours wearing nipple clamps, tight and mean ones, to learn the feel, and how to perform while suffering that form of torture. They all groaned and wailed when the evil things were removed.

For that lesson, Michelle was the lucky one. Her nipple jewelry, made those things ineffective, so the staff didn't bother with her.

That's one benefit of my decorations, she told herself, sardonically.

Various frames were also used to secure them in uncomfortable positions that exposed their various orifices to use and abuse. They were all rotated through stocks and weird tables and chairs. She particularly hated a frame that held her on her hands and knees for doggy-style anal penetration.

Being fucked in all of their holes, three or just two, while secured in those uncomfortable positions, unable to move, taught them that as sex slaves, they were merely holes to be filled. That was really a new concept for Michelle, and one she suspected she might experience a lot, in the months and years to come.

There was also additional practice at deep-throating and each of them spent time rimming each other's ass holes with their overworked-tongues.

Each night during that week, the four of them wound up sore and depressed, even Sutton, the most experienced of them all.

Michelle had to constantly remind herself that the classes would be done in days, and her sexual servitude in a few more years. She could survive the suffering by losing herself in dreams of her future.

One afternoon they were introduced to the exquisite pain delivered by clothes pins pinching various parts of their bodies while they performed the standard sexual tasks that would please their masters and mistresses.

And the next morning, they had to perform while being shocked by e-stim devices attached to their most sensitive parts.

And later that day they were also tested and subjected to tickling tortures, while restrained and still sucking on the same old penises and pussies. Again, Sutton and Wyatt suffered the most, as they were torn between uncontrollable laughter and painful torture

Throughout the week, various types of sex toys, particularly vibrators and stimulators were introduced, to allow them to get used to the feelings. The things were often uncomfortable and even painful as they were oversized and even seemingly designed to be distressing. A good slave had to learn to accept their Master's or Mistress' tortures, if they were inclined to utilize them.

Michelle was spooked when the head mistress lectured them on their need to accept both pain and pleasure from their masters and mistresses. They shouldn't be merely performing while accepting it. They should be appreciating it, even enjoying it when it was delivered by their master or mistress.

"You must be good subjects for your master or mistress. Show them how much you value their attention. Let them feel the joy in giving you pain." The head mistress, preached.

"Huh?"

"This subject is admittedly a difficult one. You must understand, that many slaves, because of their masters and mistress' desires, will be expected to demonstrate appreciation for pain, and even expected to enjoy it. These slaves' owners are of the dominant and sadist classes, and if yours falls into this category, you have to learn to accept this aspect of slavery.

Not surprisingly, Sutton professed to being able to enjoy the pain. And Michelle suspected that Wyatt also enjoyed some of it from his Mistress; but he didn't admit to it.

On the evening of the fourth day, poor Gracie finally lost it, the pain from a paddling she received for her poor performance at another foot worshiping lesson, coupled with the ache from her clamped nipples caused her to overload, and she began screaming before collapsing onto the floor in a fetal position, crying hysterically.

Of course, the instructors, particularly the head mistress, were appalled and angered by her un-slave-like behavior, and they quickly sprang into action.

She was gagged, her hands cuffed behind her back, and then dragged out to a platform with a pole set up in the center of the classroom.

Her feet were secured to the platform, and then she was impaled on a big dildo that was mounted on the top of the pole. It was adjusted to fill her completely and hold her standing up straight with the thing in her pussy.

She couldn't get off, all she could do was stand, and sob.

The head mistress then used a crop to beat her, while she lectured the wretched slave on proper behavior.

The remaining three were required to kneel and watch the distressing event. Sad for the pitiful girl, but relieved that it wasn't them being punished.

Eventually the class resumed, with Gracie standing there unmoving, suffering and watching miserably.

They only allowed her off the pole a couple of hours later, and by then her legs and feet were shaking, and her pussy was terribly abused.

She then had to, from her knees, apologize to both the instructors and to her fellow students for disrupting the class and being such a weak slave.

Michelle could sense that the event had affected the girl deeply, broken her spirit in some fashion, and that she was now a very subdued sex slave.

She felt terribly sorry for her, so at dinner that night, after the instructor had finally removed her gag, she tried to talk to her. To ensure that she was okay and calm her down. But Gracie wouldn't say much of anything. She just ate her food wile staring at her plate.

When Michelle looked at Sutton, she just shook her head and shrugged. The two of them realized that Gracie wasn't the same person she had been when she started the Slave School.

The next morning, Gracie was back functional, but she remained subdued and was much more passive; performing all tasks robotically and without complaint.

During that week, it did seem like Wyatt received special attention from a couple of the instructors. They delighted in handling his caged cock, arousing him -enticing his restrained cock to get hard and try to force itself out between the bars. And at the same time the ring pinched and pushed his balls out, making them more available to abuse. He was never allowed to ever touch himself, there. Never able to ease his discomfort.

For a while one day, they used an e-stim device to shock his cock and balls. On several occasions he screamed and fell to his knees as they laughed. Once he was conveniently down, in front of them, he was ordered to lick their pussies and ass holes, until they were satisfied.

It was all part of his training, they explained, afterwards.

Michelle also received some special treatments. One of the instructors, pushed a huge vibrator up her pussy, and then tied the chains hanging from her piercings to hold the thing in place. The constant, unrelenting vibrations were more than a distraction; they nearly drove her crazy. She couldn't concentrate, so she was punished, and when she couldn't stand it anymore, and she lost control and actually orgasmed in the middle of class, she received a severe paddling.

That evening she was unable to sit with the others to eat her dinner. She had to eat standing up, next to the table.

Only before bed was the thing removed, and even that procedure was difficult as her chains were so tangled it took twenty minutes, and a lot of pulling and pinching before she was freed.

Each night throughout the week, the grumbling around their dinner table was consistent, only occasionally taking on a different tone. Sutton complained when the lessons grew boring and repetitive. "I'm not learning anything new from this." Was her most common grumble.

Wyatt whined about having to service cocks, "My Mistress keeps me to herself. I'll never have to suck a cock!" he said after those sessions.